Falling Apart
by CaptainTinaRaven
Summary: After Graduation, Kenny feels like things just aren't falling into place as well as they should be. There should be windows opening and opportunities knocking at his door, but really it all feels like it's going to shit. (KennyxCraig)


Graduation.

What a laugh. I snicker between a drag of menthol and blow it out to the heavens. What comes after this though. There's a lot of bullshit that's been sent my way for years now. My limitless opportunities and doors opening.

I have news for everyone. My doors were shut a long, long time ago. When you're poor, you don't get those same opportunities as others. How do people see me? Well, lazy. I'm lazy and I should have tried harder. This is the end of the line for me.

I'm old enough to make decisions that will change my life, but I'm not old enough to drink. What a load of shit. I'm an adult now, but I'm not old enough to own a damn thing. Fuck this world and fuck everyone who has shoved false hope in front of my face.

The day of graduation I skip out. My family goes, but little do they know I'm not going to be walking across the stage. No, fuck that. I'm on my way to a tattoo shop. Why? Honestly, I'm not 100% certain myself. I've had a little to drink and I'm feeling free.

I lay down against the uncomfortable cushion I'm supposed to be on for however long this is going to take. I pick out a pair of angel wings and tell the guy to go nuts. I'm spending the little graduation money I got on a fucking tattoo. I laugh at myself because after today, money won't fucking matter anymore.

"You're hardcore, kid," the artist says as he readies his needle and ink.

I tell him I'm getting them because I want to fly away. I want to soar above the clouds and find happiness. Just a little spark of light in my life.

He thinks I'm taking heavy shit. I'm just here to complete my contract.

I keep fading in and out and I can't tell how long it takes. He's waking me up though and guiding me to a mirror. The large wings inked onto my shoulder blades looked wicked. He's explaining some sort of bullshit cleaning process and I hand him a wad of cash and walk out. He tries to follow me out, shouting about something like paying him too much. I don't much care though. I have places I need to be. It starts like this. My life starts now.

I realize how stupid I feel for leaving the shop without a coat. My arms are going numb, but where I'm going, I won't need a coat. I won't feel cold. I'll feel the warm comfort of nothingness.

I smile. Paradise waits me on the horizon of those train tracks. I can be that guardian angel my little sister wants me to be. I'll make someone proud for once.

I lay down on the tracks and look at my watch. I still have fifteen minutes so I watch the sky. It's so big and blue that it swallows me whole. I light up another cigarette and blow out smoke. I'm hoping that the smoke will mix with the clouds above and leave some sort of mark behind. A statement that Kenny McCormick was here. What am I talking about? Poor people aren't noticed. We're another face in the crowd.

I wonder if I could have possibly accomplished something. I learn about poor, lucky assholes making it to the top, putting false hope into people's hearts. Fuck them. They didn't work any harder than me. They just won the lottery. I'm not going to let those thoughts poison the waters of my paradise.

It's coming and none of that will matter. I close my eyes and think about a spider. Spiders can't survive if they don't drain the blood of bugs that get caught in their web. That's how I feel society works. I am a mere bug waiting to be sucked dry by a spider. Here's the biggest 'fuck you' to the world. I will rid myself of any blood I have a rot away before the spider even knows I'm here. I'll cause the spider to starve and shrivel up and die too.

I laugh to myself, but cough on the bitter cold in my lungs. I'm shaking and pale and I'm pretty sure my lips are turning blue, but none of that matters. I will not be someone else's food. I am more than that.

I can feel the rumbling vibrations under me. I look at my watch and this is the final countdown. I have mere seconds of life and I've never felt more liberated. I can control one aspect of my life and this is it. I send a nice finger to the sky and laugh until it hurts.

"Kenny?"

My hand drops, "…fuck." All of my courage dissolves suddenly. I feels scared and weak and I can't move. I look over at the voice that called out my name.

It's Craig Tucker. He looks only slightly amused because anything that has to do with the middle finger cracks him up. Other than that, he's stone faced. The warmth of his smile, cools back to stoic as he walks toward the tracks, "What are you doing?" He voice is very much nasally and very much monotone.

"Stay back," I turn my head and I can feels the tears rising up.

He sees them and looks up and out. He feels the rumbling and the horn of the train blares. "You stupid fuck!" He rushes over to me and gathers me up in his arms. He's scared and I'm not really sure why he isn't at the graduation. I'm not sure why he cares if I live or die either.

Everything is a blur, all I know is that right when my body hits soft snow, I can see the blur of colors wiz by me from the speeding train. Wow, the colors are intense. I don't have a moment to take it in though because moments later my face is being beat in by Craig's fist. Blood coats the snowy ground, staining it red. He doesn't let up either.

"Kenny!" I hear my name again and it sounds like Kyle. I can't tell though. It might be Stan.

I lean over and cough up blood and vomit out the vodka I stole from my dad's stash. I'm so cold I feel like I'm shaking apart. I'm sure my limbs are going to fall off. The poorly stitched fabric of my tendons feel like they're giving way.

"Leave him alone, Jackass!" A blur of orange dashes into my vision and Kyle is on top of Craig, beating his face into the snow. I can only imagine what that must feel like.

I feel tender hands hold me up and I'm laying in a warm lap. "Dude, Kyle!" That's definitely Stan's voice, "Beat the shit out of him later. Kenny is ice cold!" I can sense the quiver in his voice and I can tell he's about to cry.

Kyle's voice is muffled until he grumbles 'Bastard' and turns back toward us. He helps Stan pull me up to my feet and I feel like dead weight. "Cartman! Make sure that asshole doesn't get back up!" He orders and suddenly I'm aware Cartman is here with us. He doesn't look thrilled to the job he's assigned, but I can see his brow crease in concern when he sees me.

Jesus, I must look awful to get a reaction like that from Cartman.

"Kenny? Kenny, stay with us," Kyle's voice sounds rushed, "Dude, we need to bring him to the hospital."

"H-hospital!?" Stan's voice comes out in a sqeak.

"No hospital," I murmur, "A bath and warm clothes."

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Kyle shouts at me and I can see the bright green of his eyes. When he's pissed, his eyes turn really green. I snicker because it reminds me of the Hulk.

I hold back my laughter because they're going to think I'm cracking up. "I don't want to get in trouble. I was drinking," I say pitifully, hoping they would chill about the whole thing.

"Why!?" Kyle screamed and, now, he looked like the one who was going to beat me.

"Dude, calm the fuck down. Let's just drag him to my house, toss him in a bath, and bandage him back together," Stan tries to reason, but I'm sure it's just because he hates hospitals.

"What are your parents going to say if we drag a half-unconscious, bloody friend into their home? 'Go right on up and use the bathroom?'" Kyle mocks in a rage.

"Guys, figure out what you're doing fast," Cartman shouts out to them and I can tell by his voice Craig is coming to again.

"Alright, alright. Fine," Kyle finally complies and we get moving.

We're going smoothly until I hear Craig's voice, "You're fucking welcome! He was going to kill himself, but I saved him! He needs to be beat!"

I feel everyone's footsteps stop and the air is way too cold to burden. I feel everyone's eyes on me and it's even worse. The blood is dripping from the tattoo on my back and I feel like an angel that had just plummeted onto Earth again.

"Is that true, Kenny?" Kyle asks. It's calm, but stern. Like how a parental figure would say it.

Instead, I look at Stan because I don't want to meet Kyle's disappointed gaze. That's immediately a big mistake because the asshole is sobbing and crying his eyes out. I can't bring myself to say anything, so I slowly lift my hand off from Kyle's shoulder and stick my middle finger up at him. It might not be aimed directly at him, but he got the message. I can tell.

Luckily, Stan's parents are gone. I find out that it's 7 at night and the ceremony was at 10 this morning. I must have passed out at the tattoo shop longer than I thought.

They slump me in the bath tub and Cartman and Kyle are fighting with one another as they try to peel off my clothes. Stan is sitting on the toilet seat, watching it all go down with watery eyes. I want him to help because Kyle and Cartman aren't being gentle. I lock eyes with Stan and mumble his name.

His eyebrows shoot up as if I startled him or something. Kyle and Cartman look at each other before turning to Stan. Cartman returns to what he was doing, but Kyle stops him.

"No, dude. I think Kenny wants Stan to do this," Kyle says, looking at me for confirmation.

I just nod.

Stan shakes his head. He doesn't want to do it, but after Kyle pushes him closer and Cartman calls him a sopping wet pussy, he finally gives in. He pulls my pants down and shifts off my underwear. I don't feel self-conscious under his gaze. He seems truly concerned, but not in an 'I'm gunna get in trouble' kind of way.

The water is warm against my flesh and it burns at my back, but I deal with it because I feel like a living ice cube. I smile and reach out for Stan's hand. He hold and squeeze.

Kyle kind of coos and Cartman makes a disgusted face, but keels over in a coughing fit when he's elbowed by Kyle.

After awhile, I can feel myself sobering up. My head feels like a hundred pounds, but I'm seeing straight. It's then when I realize everyone is sleeping in the same room together. We haven't had a slumber party in years. It felt nice and nostalgic.

"Are you awake?" Kyle whispers over to me.

I just nod.

"Do you think I can talk to you for a sec?" Kyle asks.

"Are you going to beat the shit out of me?" I snicker.

"I should, but…This might sound selfish, but I need to talk to you about a problem I'm having," Kyle says, a bit fidgety.

I nod and he helps me out of bed. I insist I can do it on my own, but he helps anyway. I guess, it makes him feel better for possibly waking me up. He closes the bathroom door and takes another look at me. He cringes. "Ouch, Are you okay?"

I roll my eyes, "This isn't about me, remember?"

Kyle rubs his arm and looks away, "Y-yeah, right." He sighs and hunches over like he has a thousand pound on his back. "Listen, I… I'm gay," he confesses.

"I know that," I state seriously, "I've known that for how long now?"

Kyle laughs sheepishly, "I guess, but…um… Me and Stan have fooled around a little. Well, I mean, a lot." I'm still not surprised and he kind of gets that by my stoned expression. "Me and Stan aren't together. And well, he's kind of clingy and I think he think we are, but I don't want it to make our friendship weird or anything…"

"You kiss your friend and it's going to get weird, dude," I say and raise my eyebrow when he blushes. "You and Stan fucked," I state rather than ask. His body language says it all. "Are you jealous because I wanted him to change me? Because that was…"

He cuts me off, "No. No. No. No, Kenny, I'm not jealous. I think, ya know, it would actually be best if you two did kind of hook up. I could, like, let Stan go lightly and you'd rebound."

I raise my eyebrow, "This isn't football, dude. You can't just willingly let me steal the ball. There's a catch. Are you playing for the opposite team?"

"Wh-what!? No! I'm… I'm into dude, I just…" Kyle is stalling. I wish he would just spit it out already.

I arch my eyebrow because I can feel the gears working in his head. He's trying to find the right words to say.

He settles with a warm smile and an embarrassed look. "Look, Cartman fucks iso good/i," Kyle croons and I can feel his brain melting from the thought of it.

My eyebrows shoot up because this is actually some news to me, "Cartman? Wait, hold on. Cartman you can't stand and fight with all the time? Fatass, Cartman? You're messing with Fatass?"

"I know, I know," there's shame in his face, but there's a hint of lust too. It's weird. I'm not liking this side of Kyle. "It's like… he's so different alone. When we're in bed, he looks at me like I'm the only one on the planet and I love it rough and dirty and…and…!" I arch my eyebrow and he can tell he's giving me too much information.

"What's wrong with Stan?" I have to ask. I was sure they'd be gay with each other forever.

"Stan…" Kyle sighs and looks away, "I like him, but… He's too nice. Sometimes I want to fuck and not just make love. He's too romantic. He's…"

I stop him right there. "You're a masochist."

There's a silence that falls between us. Things really are weird. Just when I thought we were all back on track, Kyle is the one who is going to break this group apart. I just feel like laying on those railroad tracks again and waiting for the 2:59am to roll by.

"Just date Stan until he gets used to this," Kyle pleas.

"I don't even think I can get used to this," I grumble and make my way back to the room.

"Wait, why did you… You know…?" Kyle asks with hesitation.

"Now you care?" I ask and let the dark room engulf me into its shadowy realm. I look down at Stan and feel horrible for him. I sigh and lower my aching body to the ground and snuggle under his comforter.

He allows me in and holds onto me, resting his head to my chest. I frown because I know I can't be Kyle. This fucking sucks.

I let my mind shut off for the night. I'm way too tired to think.


End file.
